


ephemeral

by howelllesters



Series: askfics [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Amused Phil Lester, Cute Dan Howell, Drunk Dan Howell, Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, One Shot, Snapchat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24489829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howelllesters/pseuds/howelllesters
Summary: In which Dan is drunk and Phil wishes Snapchats weren't temporary.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: askfics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769077
Kudos: 9





	ephemeral

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 'ephemeral', from vidurvasaris.

Phil did not anticipate the beginning of his day involving his heart casually stopping, but here he was, not breathing as he reached out for his boyfriend only to be met with cold, empty mattress.

“Dan?” he yelled, his throat sounding scratchy from sleep. “Dan?”

He hammered on the wall between their two, technically, separate bedrooms, hoping that Dan had just stumbled home so late last night that he’d passed out in his own bed rather than disturbing Phil, but there was no sound.

Mouth dry, Phil was sat bolt upright by this point, glasses haphazardly flung onto his face, wondering where the hell the man was and what had happened to him.

“Phone,” he reminded himself, trying to stay calm and scrabbling around for the phone that sat on his bedside table. “Check your phone. He’s fine, everything’s fine.”

Blinking at the too-bright display, Phil managed to make out that he had some unread messages, amongst a handful of social media notifications and a frankly alarming number of Snapchats. He’d only had the app a week, hadn’t even told their fans he was on it yet, and already he regretted it.

Ignoring everything but the texts from Dan, he scrolled until he found what he assumed was meant to be reassuring.

_v v c v drink, jake bed xxxxz_

Trying to translate, Phil looked at his other messages and found some slightly more coherent ones from Jake, one of the group of college friends Dan had been out with last night.

_Dan’s drunk, crashed at ours, J_

Sighing with relief, Phil relaxed into their pillows. Dan was fine, he was just passed out in someone else’s house, and he’d probably mooch back to theirs around lunchtime with a headache. Everything was going to be okay, and Dan hadn’t been kidnapped in the night. Phew.

For a moment, Phil felt guilty for not going with him on his night out - he’d been invited but declined on the basis that he really needed to get a video edited, and they were Dan’s friends, not his. Dan had insisted they wouldn’t care, and Phil was sure he was right, but he hadn’t been in the mood. Of course, if he had gone, perhaps Dan would have made it back to his own house.

_Morning sunshine, hope you’re okay. Text me if you need anything, hope it was a good night xx_

After firing a text off to soothe his conscience a little, Phil spent half an hour or so scrolling through his various social media alerts, replying where necessary. He loved Sunday mornings in bed, doing absolutely nothing but being as comfy as possible. The only thing that could possibly have made it better was if he’d had another body tucked up next to him, fast asleep on his chest as Phil ran his fingers through his hair.

Remembering the Snapchats, Phil opened the app to find the majority were from a contact he was sure he’d never even seen before, _J246x_. Clicking it hesitantly, afraid he was going to be greeted with some x-rated image he could live without, he was pleasantly surprised to find a close up of his boyfriend’s face, eyes scrunched shut and face dotted with the purple, green and pink lights of the bar they were obviously in.

So Dan had added Phil to Jake’s Snapchat. The boy was a menace.

He sighed happily at the picture, saddened a little when it disappeared, only to be replaced by another shot of Dan, this time downing a glass of beer. Phil was still figuring this Snapchat thing out, but seeing temporary photos of his favourite person having a good night was pretty cool, he had to admit.

As that snap disappeared, Phil glanced at the top corner, only to find he’d embarked on something over… 200 seconds long? Was he about to be treated to 200 seconds worth of Dan pictures? Because that was cute, but he could just step into his own lounge to see pictures of Dan, or better yet, just pounce on the real thing for most of the time.

“Tell Phil something!” a voice blared out of Phil’s phone, and he nearly dropped it in alarm.

“Philllll,” Dan started, slurring just a little and raising his bottle to the camera. “Is a ffffucking wanker for not coming out tonight.”

Phil smirked at the idiot.

He was more than used to Dan’s own unique way of telling him stuff. ‘You have pasta on your chin’ meant that it had been a good date, ‘you’re really weird, did you know that?’ assured him that Dan wouldn’t change him for the world, and this little message meant he was missing him more than he really cared to let on to his friends.

“We’re having a great time!” Dan sang in the next snap, lit up in blue this time as Phil worked out they’d moved on to a different bar.

He was literally watching their bar crawl play out in front of him, all from the comfort of his own bed. What a brilliant app this was.

The next few were just pictures again, Dan’s face pressed against those of his friends, grinning stupidly in all of them. Phil’s heart skipped every time - Dan’s smile was his favourite sight.

“Hi Phil,” sounded Dan from one of them, his eyes looking a little heavy, his posture more subdued. If Phil had to guess, the night was starting to wind down at this point, and Dan was entering his sleepy, emotional drunken state, which was Phil’s favourite, and he enjoyed laughing at him for days afterwards. “I’ve stolen Jake’s phone, don’t tell-”

The video was cut off, but Phil understood, and laughed.

“I really love you,” said his phone, as the next video started playing, and Phil smiled fondly. He sensed that he was about to watch a marathon of silly snaps from Dan, and yeah, this was better than any television show.

“I was only joking earlier, I love you a lot,” Dan continued to half-whisper into the phone, attempting to be secretive even as Phil could hear the thundering music behind him. Dan’s face was half in darkness, and Phil was starting to suspect that Dan might have snuck off somewhere alone to record these.

What a dork.

“I think I want to spend my whole life with you,” Dan smiled at him happily, and Phil rolled his eyes again. So kind of him to _think_ that might be the case.

What followed were no less than eighteen video clips, all between seven and ten seconds long, with Dan telling Phil how much he loved him.

“Your eyes are like, the same blue as the fish tanks at the pet shop. That’s _so_ blue.“

“I love you a lot, and I know you think I’m just saying this because I’m drunk but-”

“I am saying this because I am drunk.”

“Phil, Phil, Phil, this is our song!”

At this point, Phil hadn’t thought it could get much better, Dan swaying with the phone while softly singing, his eyes closed and his face bathed in blue, and Phil knew, he knew he wasn’t meant to be giggling, because this was cute and romantic, but he was giggling.

And then it did get better. Their song obviously ended, and Dan sent a solemn photo of himself, just staring into the camera.

“I think I want to marry you,” were the lines from his next video.

“Marry me, Phil?”

“Imagine us married. We’re basically already married.”

“I will happily be Dan Lester, but you can be Phil Howell if you want.”

Phil thought his heart was about to explode, and suddenly he hated this bloody app again, because everything was just temporary. He’d never be able to watch these videos again, and that was just so unfair, because he hadn’t even gotten to enjoy them properly, heart too busy stopping again for the second time that morning.

His boyfriend was going to be the death of him.

Fiancé, he thought idly, glancing at the bottom drawer of their wooden chest. Dan had no idea that if you removed the drawer completely, there was a hollow section where it didn’t quite touch the floor, currently playing host to a little black box.

The next snap was a picture of Dan pulling a stupid face with the caption ‘Jake’s coming over’, at which Phil laughed again, and then the saga ended, and Phil sat in bed for a full hour smiling like a fool.

At around half twelve, there was a muffled thud and a curse from the hallway, and Phil grinned into his sandwich.

“I hate everything,” Dan mumbled, walking into the living room and flopping on to the sofa next to Phil. “Especially alcohol.”

“Good night?” Phil asked, putting his food down and shifting his position so Dan could lie down, head in Phil’s lap.

“I have no idea, I can’t remember a thing.”

“Not a thing?” Phil asked, half amused, half disappointed.

“I can just about recall being in some bar with pink and green lights,” answered Dan, and Phil smirked. “And after that, I’m waking up in Jake’s bed with the worst headache in the entire world. Literally, I think my brain is about to explode.”

“Probably for the best,” Phil said innocently.

“What’s for the best?” Dan muttered, nestling into Phil some more.

“That you can’t remember anything.”

“Why? Oh god, did I do something? Did I drunk text you? Call you?”

“…nope.”


End file.
